


I Have Four Kids. One of Them Is 34.

by friedchickenwhore



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life AU, child characters, family au, not original characters though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedchickenwhore/pseuds/friedchickenwhore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are far too many jealous, stubborn personalities around Bruce. And they might all be moving into one house. One very, very enclosed space. Together. With him. Dear God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Four Kids. One of Them Is 34.

Bruce remembered that. Well, it had only been two months- of course he did. But the picture of Steve, Natasha, and Clint celebrating Steve’s 9th birthday made him take in a sharp breath, lightly rubbing his thumb over the photo before sliding it into the photo album.  
Steve had insisted on the point party hats with stars and stripes in the store, despite Bruce’s furrowed brows and forced smile. They were just so corny- but then again, only his own children and their friend Thor and Loki where coming, and considering the others nature around the house anyway, he was certain the two extra children wouldn’t mind. Alright, Loki might, But Loki seemed to be bothered by everything, so this would all be alright. He didn’t have to worry about his little Stevie getting bullied.  
The picture was wonderful, though, one of the first times he’d had the kids all pose for a picture. Steve had that pleasant little grin as he sat in front of his cake, Clint on one side of him holding his shoulder with Thor opposite him, Natalia having stood behind them. Loki had apologized and gone home by that point of the day, too tired or something, but the kids all looked so…so happy.  
He didn’t notice Steve walk in, which was surprising. It was normal for Nat and Clint to sneak up on him, but Steve normally ends up tripping up, walking loudly despite his small frame. To be fair, Steve had giant feet compared to the rest of him. Bruce startled a bit when the boy crawled up on the old couch with him, then recovered enough to smile and pull Steve into his lap. Ah. Ever the baby of the family, despite age claiming otherwise. Steve peeked up and over the photo album, fingers grabbing at the carefully sealed and decorated edges of years on pages.  
“Did you get the one on the water slide?” He can tell Steve’s just woken up, rubbing his eyes with balled up fists. Bruce takes the liberty of pressing kisses to each little fist, large fingers gently circling both the boy’s wrists. Steve laughs, a soft little sound that Bruce has come to love hearing, creating, encouraging.  
“I have the one on the water slide. I just need to find time-“And money, he doesn’t add, “To print it out on the shiny picture paper. Remember talking about the shiny picture paper?” Thankfully Steve does, so as exhausted as he is from another night without sleep, he doesn’t have to explain how he doesn’t print photo album pictures on the regular printer paper, or with the normal printer, even.  
Bruce gives himself the permission to gently rest his chin on his son’s shoulder and give the grinning boy a toothy smile of his own. He can’t make the fullness of it last for long, so he at least lets it fall to close-lipped for now. Steve seems content playing with his nose and glasses at the moment. And of course, Steve’s the early riser, so there’s hours to go before the rest of them even wake up and stumble about the house. He seems to be looking up to a long day ahead of himself. The sleeping pills he was offered at work are appearing a better choice now than abstaining from them.

 

When Bruce snaps up to find nothing under his chin, he’s confused. Checks the time- he must have fallen asleep while Steve was pressed into his chest. Steve’s moved on now, thankfully. He can see the kids from here, in the front yard, and he’s rather certain some of Clint’s plushies are being thrown around out there but he’s not sure. He cranes his neck to see when they move to far, and that’s when it hits him how kinked up his neck is now.  
He steps into slippers so he can either sit out and watch or bring the kids inside, and walks out only to nearly run into one of the neighbors, holding a big metal bowl with a couple basically fried/bashed-looking phones inside.  
“Oh- Um, hey, Mr….?”  
“Banner.” He stifles a yawn, holds his hand out to shake.  
“Mr. Banner. Tony Stark. Just Tony’s perfect, though. I was wondering if you had any broken computers, phones, radiators or whatever? Broken electronics of any kind, honestly.” And Bruce notices that Stark does this odd thing when he smiles, where it starts out with only mouth and it takes a moment to crinkle his eyes, even if it eventually does.  
“Um- yeah, I might, let me just get the kids inside.” He managed to coax the kids in, leaving the door open behind him to usher in Tony as well. “You can call me Bruce, by the way. Sorry, everything’s a bit of a jumble, we’re trying to rearrange some things in the family room. You, uh, stay here, I think I have some old discs and my last phone in the bedroom.”  
Tony drums his fingers against the bowl while he waits, but Bruce does return rather quickly with a few discs, a phone with it’s screen cracked beyond recognition, and what seems to be an old remote control car when the plastic outer case had been shattered to bits, remote control connected by a rubber band at the moment. “We have these, but I think that’s it. Sorry?” His brows are knit in worry and he’s staring down at his hands but Tony grins like a maniac and holds out the bowl.  
“Absolutely perfect. Especially the car.” And he avoids a thank you, but does pat Bruce on the shoulder and give goodbyes before going.  
Bruce heavily considers meeting some more of his neighbors, if any of them look even close to...that.


End file.
